


The Way to a Man's Heart

by zoi_no_miko



Category: A Knight's Tale
Genre: #yuletide tentacle challenge, Fighting, First Time, Hand Job, M/M, Minor Violence, Oral, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-18
Updated: 2009-12-18
Packaged: 2017-10-04 13:06:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoi_no_miko/pseuds/zoi_no_miko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wat evaluates his priorities and begins to realize there is more to life than just a full stomach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Way to a Man's Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reserve](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reserve/gifts).



**Plum**

Wat wasn't surprised when Geoffrey Chaucer appeared in his stables, blonde hair almost white in the mid-morning sun. Though he wasn't sure why, Geoff had become a fairly common fixture in the stables of Will's - Sir William Thatcher's - small holding, there almost as much as their steward's young son, who acted as stable boy.

"Morning, Wat."

"Morning indeed," he shot back with a frown, pausing half way through mucking out a stall to look out at him. "Where the hell have you been? You know I had to feed your bloody chickens for you?"

Geoff leaned up against the edge of the wall dividing the stalls with a little smirk, his tunic bundled into a strange lumpy sack which hung from his belt. "Well, if you must know, I was enjoying the morning sun while continuing my explorations of this lovely piece of land." His grin widened; a sure sign that he knew something likely to be of interest to Wat and was just waiting for Wat to drag it out of him.

Wat fought the urge to glare at him, setting his pitchfork against the wall. "Geoff, I don't have time for your games this morning, right? I have to get this place spotless before Will's wedding, get the cows out to pasture to make room for visiting horses, get the tack cleaned - "

"Close your eyes," Geoff interrupted, still with aggravating that little smile, and Wat had to resist the urge to smack it off his face.

"Look, not all of us have the luxury of lazing around all day and writing poetry. What part of 'I'm busy', do you not fonging understand?"

Instead of rising to the insult as expected, Geoff gave a mocking pout, rather more good natured than Wat expected. "Ah, don't be angry, Marshal Wat. This'll only take a minute. Just trust me - close your eyes."

Wat glared at him for a moment, but the reminder of his shiny new title as Marshal of Will's estate made him soften, just as Geoff likely knew it would. It didn't matter if being a Marshal wasn't that much different than being a squire at tourney, just like Roland's title of Chamberlain still involved a lot of cleaning and procurement of clothing. Will still worked alongside them as he always had, and having a holding and a title meant having a proper supply of food. Wat would never complain about any of that.

"Fine," he said, and closed his eyes, finding them covered by Geoff's hand, as if the herald didn't completely trust him not to peek. There was a moment of stillness, and he caught a warm, sticky sweet scent. Before he could wonder at it, however, a smooth, sun warmed softness was pressed to his lips, the sweet smell becoming almost overwhelming.

"Have a bite. Don't open your eyes, you have to guess what it is."

Wat gave one last half-hearted attempt at reluctance. "If you poison me, I'll fonging -"

"How is it this difficult to try and get something in your damn stomach? Just eat the bloody thing, Wat."

He gave in and sunk his teeth into the skin, which broke into soft flesh underneath, incredibly sweet, flavourful juice spilling over his lips. He laughed despite his formed resolve to be angry about it, sucking at the skin and - inadvertently - Geoff's fingers as he tried to avoid spilling a single drop. Munching on the bite of what must be fruit - very, very fresh fruit, he tried to talk between licking the juice off his lips. "Fruit? Where did you get it?"

When Geoff spoke, his voice seemed a little lower than normal, a little more throaty, though it could have been Wat's imagination. Regardless, he seemed pleased. "Of course fruit. What kind?"

"Really good kind. Give us some more." He leaned forward against Geoff's hand, mouth trying to find the bitten fruit, and he heard his friend chuckle softly, pressing the fruit back to his lips.

"Careful, it has a pit."

"Mmm," he replied, finding the hardness with his teeth and carefully biting around it, nipping at Geoff's fingers in an attempt to get him to relinquish the fruit. "I can finish it on my own."

"Not until you tell me what you're eating," Geoff replied, voice still low and warm, fingertips brushing against his bottom lip as he fed him another bite.

Wat thought back on the fruits he'd eaten in his life, which had generally been cooked, half dried, or overripe. "Prune."

"Close enough." Geoff's fingers pulled from over his eyes, and he offered Wat the remainder of the fruit, looking strangely pleased with himself. Realizing that Geoff's hands were significantly cleaner than his at the moment, Wat simply leaned in the take the last bite off the stone. Geoff's eyes narrowed slightly, allowing it, then tossing away the pit and sucking the remaining juice off his fingertips. Definitely a poets hands, Wat found himself thinking, watching the way they moved against his lips.

"Plums," Geoff said, pulling Wat from his thoughts, grinning proudly. "We have plum trees on the land. Just a few, but we have plenty for the wedding - " he patted the bundle at his waist lightly - "And more to dry for winter time. I thought you'd be the most appreciative of the news." He turned before Wat could reply, still smiling, heading for the stable doors, then showed the real reason for his kindness. "And if you feed the chickens for the rest of the week, I'll show you where they are."

Wat snorted and turned back to work, tongue flicking against his upper lip to taste the sweetness that still lingered there. Maybe it would be worth it.

~~~~~

**Pie**

He walked into the kitchen the morning of Will's wedding to find Chaucer helping the cook with a bucket full swirling, serpent-like things in water. At first he thought them eels, but then the cook grabbed one of the struggling creatures from the bucket with a pair of tongs. Suddenly he found himself staring in amazement at the bulbous head and multiple struggling tentacles of one of the strangest beasts he'd ever seen in his life.

"Oy... what the hell is that?"

Geoff looked up with a grin. "Octopoda vulgaris, my friend. More simply, the common octopus."

"Vulgaris is right." He eyed the strange creature. "What the hell are they doing in the kitchen?"

"Being made into pie, of course. They're apparently quite the delicacy."

Wat winced as the cook dispatched the strange thing with a blow her heavy cleaver. "Pie? No way in hell I'm touching anything of that... that thing."

The cook ignored them, long used to their playful banter. Geoff leaned back against the counter, watching him with a curious smirk. "You? Turning down food? I've heard they're delicious. You afraid of a little octopus?"

"I'm not afraid of anything. I'm just not so crazy as to put any of those squirming arm things anywhere near me."

"Tentacles?" Geoff's hand darted out to retrieve one from the cutting board before it could be diced into small pieces. He waved it in the air. "Come on Wat, it's perfectly harmless."

"It's perfectly disgusting, that's what it is."

"There's nothing disgusting about it. Or perhaps you are disturbed by its... shall we say, phallic nature?"

"Its what?"

"Its resemblance to a certain... manly asset. Maybe you don't want to eat it because it's bigger than yours, hm?" Geoff dropped the tentacle and took off running without waiting for Wat's comprehension or reply. He wasn't quite fast enough to escape Wat's rage, or the dripping, struggling cephalopod the other man pulled from the bucket and launched across the room. It hit Geoff in the back of the the head, wet and unpleasantly cold, and he spent the rest of the morning with his shirt wet and a little a slimy.

~~~~~

 

**Dinner Rolls**

At Will's wedding, long after Will and Jocelyn had disappeared, Roland realized that they'd all had entirely too much to drink. Christiana was snuggled against him drunkenly, asleep against his shoulder, and he he emptied his tankard and eyed his companions - Kate and Chaucer across the table, and Wat beside him, draining his own mug. "Right, you all. Will's got his, now how about settling down?"

Kate gave a laugh, shaking her head at him. "I've had my share, thank you very much. Go to work on these two scalawags first. Wat needs someone to keep him out of trouble, I think."

"Sure, but I got a long laundry list," Wat declared, refilling their mugs from the large jug of ale. "She's gotta be the most beautiful girl in Christendom, right? And she's got to be able to cook anything, absolutely anything, whenever I want it. Cakes, pies, tarts, sweetbreads, and definitely treacle tart. All of her cooking, it's all gotta be perfect. I won't settle for anything less."

"You might have a while to wait, I'm not certain the perfect woman would settle for your ugly mug," Geoff retorted, which earned him a hard roll thrown across the table. It bounced off his head, but he managed to catch it before it hit the floor.

"What, you think you can do better?"

Geoff chuckled, breaking the hard bread into small pieces and popping one into his mouth. "I do have a wife, actually," he said after swallowing, somewhat in the same tone one would used to describe owning an extra large travelling trunk. "It's proven to be a rather acceptable arrangement. I have an accountant and badly needed beard for any necessary dealings with high society, and she has the privilege of controlling all my investments." He took a long drink from his mug, and set it back down. "So I'm sure you can understand why I am often - shall we say, lacking in monetary assets."

Wat immediately pictured Chaucer wearing a carefully constructed fake beard made of long dark hair. "Why the hell would you want one of those? You'd look like a bloody git with a beard."

The blond stared at him for a long moment, lips parting into a slow smile - the kind Wat hated. It generally indicated Geoff knew something that others didn't and had no intention of sharing, though from Roland's sniggering Wat realized that he was the only one in the dark.

"What?"

"How about we tell you when you're older," Geoff replied with a sly glance, sipping from his mug and choking as his teasing earned him a well placed kick under the table.

~~~~~

 

**Candy Cakes**

 

When Wat finally stumbled drunkenly to his room, he quickly discovered that winning the draw to have the large, airy room next to Will's wasn't the best thing after all. He stripped down to his breeches and a shirt, but decided in no time at all that there was absolutely no way he would be able to ignore the constant thumping coming from the neighbours, not to mention the groans and cries only produced by people having a really good shag. The only reasonable solution was to put a good amount of distance between himself and the banging.

The only sleeping alternatives that came to mind were someone else's room or the stable. He wasn't certain that his liquored legs would get him as far as the stable - and, to be entirely truthful, he'd gotten a bit soft in the lap of luxury. Plus, they'd opened the hayloft to some of the servants that had accompanied various wedding guests to the holding, which turned out to be more than even he'd anticipated. Rationalizations firm in his mind, he took the decidedly easier option and found himself banging on Chaucer's door a short time later.

Geoff eventually answered his constant knocking holding a stub of a candle, staring at him blearily from the other side of the door. His wedding finery had been replaced by an oversized linen shirt that somehow made him appear even more gangly than he did when completely naked, and strangely fragile. "All right, god, stop your pounding. I thought you'd gone to bed."

"I had," Wat replied, feeling a bit cross and pushing past Geoff into the room. "But it's a bit noisy in there for the moment. I'm sleeping in here."

"In my room."

"Yes."

"And I suppose you'll be taking my bed."

Wat had already climbed up into it, pulling the covers up to his chin. "You can have mine."

"How very generous." There was a long silence, and Wat closed his eyes, not particularly caring if Geoff was angry or not. Wat heard Geoff's footsteps as he crossed the floor, the candlelight going out with a soft puff of the herald's breath. Then Geoff's hand prodded his shoulder. "Move over."

"What?"

"If you're going to be sleeping in my bed, you'll have to deal with the fact that I'm in it, won't you?" Geoff said, climbing under the covers and shouldering his way into the other half of the bed, stretching out on his back in mirror to Wat's position. Wat tried to decide if he should be indignant at the arrangement, but in truth they'd slept in closer quarters before while at tourney. Wat didn't usually mind sharing sleeping arrangements with another man, it was something that he did all his life. There had always been something about Geoff, though, that made it different from sleeping next to, say, Roland or Will. A kind of tension that wasn't quite uneasiness, but still hung unspoken between them. Maybe it was because Geoff was the newcomer, the one that hadn't spent his adolescence following Sir Ecktor around Europe trying to get by on contract jobs and tourney winnings. Or maybe it was that Geoff somehow seemed to know just how to make him mad, getting under his skin in a way no one else could. It unnerved him. Still, he was rather comfortable, so he said nothing and shifted a little in bed as he tried to find sleep.

For a long moment there was silence, and though he could still hear the occasional faint banging, it was a far deal better than it had been in his own room. He assumed Geoff had fallen asleep, and was just drifting off himself when he felt the man next to him move, turning to face him, his breath warm against Wat's ear and spiced with wine.

"Do you really not know what it means to have a beard?"

He turned his head to look at Geoff, features just visible in the moonlight through the chamber window. "That's bloody stupid, I have one. Might not be much of one, but - "

"That's not what I meant, Wat."

"Then what the bloody hell do you mean?"

"Would you like me to show you?" Geoff's voice was light, without much of the calculated, somewhat superior tone it often carried, and it caught Wat off his guard.

Wat might have taken longer to try and figure out Geoff's game in a more sober state, but he didn't have the patience for it tonight. "Fine," he said, a little irritated but mostly too drunk to care.

Geoff's thin arms slipping around him without warning woke Wat up considerably, and set his pulse racing. Before he could react, he found his friend's lips suddenly pressed to his, softer that he would have expected but still demanding. When Wat tried to let out an indignant squawk he found Geoff's tongue pressed between his lips as if invited, hot and slick and tasting of wine with an underlying sweetness that wasn't at all unpleasant, not unlike the ripe plum his friend had fed him days before. The shock of being kissed unexpectedly was quickly followed by another kind of shock, a shiver of desire that flowed down his spine to pool warm in the pit of his stomach. It was something akin to the pleasure of biting into the perfect candy cake: a hot, luscious feeling, and Wat found himself wanting more.

When Geoff finally pulled back, Wat found he couldn't do anything but stare at him, stuck between the part of him that wanted more, and the part that was yelling at him to punch the bastard in the nose. "That is why I need a beard," Geoff said calmly, then rolled back onto his side, back to Wat.

Several minutes passed, during which Wat tried desperately to figure out what to make of it all. "You're queer."

"Very good," Geoff returned sleepily. "Now go to sleep."

"You trying to get into my bed?"

A long sigh. "Beyond the fact that you invaded my bed and not the other way around, no. I don't fancy a good fonging, and even if I decided to risk it, I'm far too drunk to perform at the moment. So go to sleep."

"Oh," Wat found himself replying, as if this was the most normal thing in the world. He heard Geoff's breathing deepen soon enough, and he listened to it for a time before finally drifting off himself.

~~~~~

 

**Cornish Pasty**

When Wat woke up the morning after Will's wedding, he was alone in Chaucer's bed, with no sign of the man he'd slept beside. It gave him a strange feeling of disappointment and perhaps a little bit of betrayal, something that confused him. What reason did Geoff have to stick around and wait for him to haul his lazy ass out of bed, anyway?

He returned to his own room to dress, casting a glare toward the sound of banging from the room next to him and making a note to ask Roland about moving rooms temporarily. He could of course continue to infiltrate Geoff's rooms whenever was necessary, but from the sounds of it that might be fairly often. It might be best not to give the man - or anyone else in the household - any strange ideas as to why he was sharing a bed with someone that apparently everyone had known was queer but him.

Geoff was talking to the cook in the kitchen when he arrived, munching on a leftover pasty from the night before. He glanced up as Wat entered, blue eyes regarding him quietly for a long moment with a strange, almost indecisive look that Wat wasn't used to seeing on him. Then he gave a nod to the cook and turned for the back door.

"Ouy, Geoff!" He suddenly felt the need for some kind of clarification or understanding about what had happened the previous night, and started towards him to catch him. The herald didn't turn, however, acting like he hadn't heard him, and Wat realized the snub for what it was when the back door to the kitchen closed almost in his face. He glared at the door, the confusing feeling of hurt and betrayal he'd felt upon waking coming back tenfold. Part of him wanted to go after Geoff and confront him, grab the man by the arms and demand to know what the hell he was thinking by ignoring him when it had been Geoff that had started all this. It was Geoff that started it, right?

He didn't see Geoff for the rest of the day, but rather than being a relief, Wat found it just made the hard knot of anger and uncertainty twist itself tighter in his stomach. His mind kept returning to the way Geoff had kissed him, no matter how much he tried to think about other things. Liquor or no, it had still been surprisingly pleasant, enough that Wat caught himself running the back of a knuckle along his bottom lip more than once. It had been nice, he realized with sudden clarity, though that just brought more confusion in the aftermath. Kissing another man wasn't supposed to be nice, was it? But the only one he could think of to ask about it was the one man who appeared to be completely avoiding him.

He tried to think of a reason for Geoff's absence all throughout the day, mulling it over and over in his head - the look in Geoff's eyes when he'd seen him in the kitchen contrasting with the way the man's lips had felt on his. The stable seemed strangely empty without the herald getting underfoot, even though Wat was kept busy all day helping tack up horses to send home the guests who had stayed overnight. When he went in for dinner, Geoff's absence was impossible to ignore, making him more and more irritated until he finally took his food up to his room and went to bed, pillow over his head to muffle the noises from next door.

He was still angry when there was no Geoff at breakfast the next day, and took to cleaning and polishing the tack with a single minded fury until every buckle shone, and every strap was flexible and pliant. It must be embarrassment that kept Geoff away, he realized with a sudden flare of anger. Geoff had gotten really drunk and done the equivalent of kissing the ugly tavern whore, and now he was trying to avoid acknowledging that it had ever happened.

He was still angry midway through the afternoon when he heard Geoff's call his name from the doorway of the tack room, voice low and a little tentative. "Wat?"

"Don't bother," he spat, not even turning to look at him. "I'm perfectly fine with pretending none of this ever happened, thank you very much. So just leave me the hell alone."

He didn't receive the angry reply he was used to from Geoff, just a few moments of heavy silence. He'd almost given in and turned around when he received his answer, a cold, hard, "Fine," accompanied by the slam of the tack room door.

He didn't find the small bowl of fresh plums until he turned to leave sometime later. They were set on the shelf by the door, left where he'd be sure to see them. It made his stomach lurch with an unexpected nasuea, but he fought it off with anger. Geoff had left, Geoff had run off, not him. Two could play at this game, he decided. If Geoff wanted to avoid him, he could damn well avoid Geoff just as easily.

~~~~~

 

**French Tart**

 

Kate found him in the stable loft, stacking bales against the coming winter. "Geoff's leaving in the morning. Thought you might like to know."

Wat kicked a bale into place. "What do you mean, leaving?"

The blacksmith gave a slightly exasperated sigh. "Leaving as in no longer here? Going off to write?"

"What's the point of that? He can write all he wants here. 'Sides, I thought he was writing about us."

"I'm just telling you what I know." She shrugged. "If you want the details, you should ask him yourself."

Wat shook his head. "He's not leaving. He would have told me."

"Sure he would have told you, 'cept you've been avoiding him since the wedding...."

"I haven't been - "

"And I'm the Virgin Mary." Kate looked at him evenly. "Everyone's seen it, Wat. But I don't understand why you're so angry?"

Wat frowned at the hay bales as if they were somehow responsible for this confrontation. "It's complicated, all right?"

"Try me."

"You're a girl."

"Well, I'm glad you remembered. You can still tell me."

He brushed his hands off on his trews, moving closer to Kate and staring at her for a long moment, warring with the idea. Then his voice dropped so low that she barely heard the confession. "Look. He kissed me, okay?"

"So?"

Wat stared at Kate in amazement. "So he's queer!"

"Yes, we all knew that."

Wat could feel the furrow between his eyebrows deepen. "I didn't."

"Yeah, well." She shrugged, trying very hard not to smile. "Can't see what's closest to you, now can you?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Means you need to stop with the denial, Wat."

"You fonging - " he lunged at Kate, only to find himself quickly knocked flat on his back in the lose hay. He glared up at her. "I'm not a fonging queer! And I'm not against hitting a girl!"

"Tell me when the last time was that you bedded a lass, then?"

Wat was on his feet in seconds, only to be knocked back on his ass, and this time Kate straddled his hips, pinning his hands to his sides with her thighs and strong hands. "For god sakes, stop trying to hit me and just answer the question."

Wat frowned, thinking back. "Paris. That tart from the tavern before tourney."

"What, the one built like a board that apparently let you do her from the rear?" She did grin now, one eyebrow quirked. "You sure she was a girl?"

"I bloody had sex with her, of course she was a girl!"

"All right, all right. But you can't deny that you don't give a damn about girls, Wat. I could walk around completely starkers and you wouldn't even care."

Wat opened his mouth, then closed it again, realizing that it wasn't completely untrue. "I do if they cook good."

"Wat -"

"I'm still not... you know."

"All right," Kate agreed amicably, "but you should still talk to Geoff."

"Why? He hasn't been talking to me either, you know."

"Look, do you really want him to leave?"

"No," he admitted finally. He heaved a sigh as Kate finally let him up, and delivered a swift kick to her shin in retribution. But his heart wasn't in it, and he hardly flinched at Kate's returning smack before climbing down from the hayloft and going to find Chaucer.

~~~~~

 

**Strawberries and Treacle**

It took him five minutes of standing outside Chaucer's door to work up the nerve to open it, and even then he wasn't quite certain what he was going to say. Finally he just dove in head first, flinging open the door. "Look, you can't leave."

Geoff looked up slowly from the half full trunk that sat at the end of his bed, regarding him with a curious lack of expression. "I don't think I gave you permission to come in here."

Wat frowned and fought down a surge of frustration, trying to tell himself very firmly that punching Geoff in the nose wasn't likely to get him to stay. "Can I come in, then?"

He might have imagined the slight surprise that crossed Geoff's face before he went back to packing carefully folded clothes into the trunk. "No."

"Oh, come on, Geoff - "

"If you're really trying to convince me to stay, you're far too late, Wat. I've already paid for passage in a caravan going north. I'm going home for the winter."

"What, home with your beard?"

Geoff's lips pressed more firmly together, nostrils flaring slightly. "Not that it's any of your business, but yes. Now if you will please remove yourself, I need to finish packing."

"I will not remove myself." He stepped in and closed the door before crossing the room to where Geoff stood at the trunk, only to have the man walk away from him, moving to his desk and starting to wrap his bundles of papers in oilskin. Wat forced back another wave of rage and followed him. "Why the hell are you leaving anyway? This is home, not some place up north with some woman who's only with you for money."

Geoff rounded on him with sudden anger, stepping close enough that Wat could feel his breath on his face, and he took a step backwards before he could school himself against the assault. "You don't know the first thing about Philippa, so don't pretend to assume you know why she married me. Furthermore, if you cared so bloody much about whether I stayed or went, you wouldn't have waited until the last minute to finally come talk to me, so you can shut your mouth and geer off."

In the ongoing battle of Wat versus Wat's temper, he lost it, landing his fist squarely on Geoff's nose.

He didn't expect the immediate retaliation, the force at which Geoff's fist cracked against his face, and rushed the man in anger and frustration. They ended up grappling on the floor, Geoff's nose bloodied, Wat's lip split and one eye beginning to purple, grabbing at each other's arms to try and prevent more blows, legs tangled as they struggled to throw the other off. It all came to a grinding halt when Geoff managed to get astride him, bashing his forehead against Wat's with such force that it left them both seeing stars. Wat let go of Geoff's wrist to clutch at his head with a groan, not making any move to dislodge the man. "What the hell did you do that for?

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," Geoff replied weakly, keeping his hand over his eyes for a moment before fumbling for a handkerchief and pressing it to his bleeding nose. "Wonder you haven't broken it with how many times you've hit me," he muttered, finally pushing himself off of Wat but staying seated on the floor beside him.

"Sorry," Wat muttered, sitting as well and watching him, rubbing his temples. He saw that flash of surprise again on Geoff's face, but the man didn't reply, so he continued. "Can't you even tell me why you're leaving?"

Geoff pulled the handkerchief away and patted his nose gently to see if the bleeding had stopped. "If you don't know by now, it's probably better that you never do," he said with a soft sigh, not looking at Wat. "I'll stop by to visit from time to time. I just... need some time alone. It's too hard for me to stay here like this any longer."

Wat watched him silently for a long moment, going over his words again in his head. He couldn't come up with any hard conclusions, but there was an idea that was beginning to form in the back of his mind. He reached out to take Geoff by the chin, forcing him to return his gaze as he searched his face, searched the wary, yet somehow sad look in his eyes. It made him slightly more certain, but with no other way to really test his theory, Wat simply leaned in to press his lips to Geoff's, firm and warm and lingering.

It wasn't like kissing girls, who were soft and often too pliant, giving the impression that they were less than willing participants that needed to be coaxed into kissing. There was definitely nothing unwilling about kissing Geoff, who, despite his soft moan of dismay reacted eagerly and immediately. Geoff returned his kiss with a kind of trembling yearning, fingers coming up to stroke through and tangle in ginger curls, the tip of his tongue flicking lightly against his split bottom lip. Wat found it more enticing than he'd expected, lips parting at the invitation only to claim Geoff's mouth with his tongue, flavoured with the slight iron of blood with the same underlying sweetness he'd tasted the first time Geoff kissed him. He'd pressed closer to him without realizing it, hand slipping from his chin to the back of his neck, caught up in the feel of Geoff's lips against his, the warm waves of pleasure that settled hot in the pit of his stomach like they had the first time Geoff had kissed him.

He gave a low moan despite himself, only to have Geoff break away with a soft, pained sigh. "Please don't do this, Wat."

Wat frowned at the loss of contact, watching him, and tried to find the words to explain himself. "Look... I'm not... I don't shag boys."

"I'm well aware of that," Geoff replied almost tiredly, rubbing the fingers of one hand over his forehead as if pained, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Why do you think I'm leaving?"

Wat found himself frowning, watching his friend. "But... but I like kissing you."

Geoff gave a soft, mirthless laugh. "I want more than just kisses from you, Wat."

The words sent an unexpected wave of warmth through him, concentrating on the pool of heat that still sat in his stomach from the kiss. "Maybe I'd like that too, if I tried it."

For a moment, Geoff just stared at him, as if not quite believing what he was saying. "Do you know what you're asking for?"

"No, but I don't usually," he replied, forcing cheerfulness to cover the strange mix of nervousness and desire he felt. He stood, drawing the bolt on the door, then crossed the room and sprawled on Geoff's bed, pulling off his tunic and tossing it over the end. "You coming, or not?"

Geoff got to his feet and watched him a little uncertainly, crossing to the bed slowly. "Don't screw with me just to keep me from leaving."

Wat frowned again, but tried not to let the words anger him. He wondered suddenly how many of Geoff's biting words towards him in the past had been stones in a wall to hide his other feelings behind. "Oy, I'm not some silly girl to throw myself at you just to get you to stay."

"Well, you still hit like one." Geoff gave hint of a smirk and perched on the side of the bed next to him, but didn't resist as Wat moved to catch his mouth again, finding it easier and easier to kiss him each time their lips came together. Some of Geoff's hesitance seemed to evaporate with their kisses, and he pressed closer to Wat as his lips parted under the assault, his hands slipping around to clench in the back of Wat's linen shirt. It was, Wat came to quickly realize, something he appreciated very much - the way Geoff moaned when his tongue swiped against his, the way he arched closer as if he couldn't get enough of him, his hands warm on Wat's back through the thin fabric of his shirt. It made that heat that was building in his stomach quickly grow to full blown need, and it wasn't hard to tug Geoff down to lay half over him, hands stroking hungrily over his back and sides. He slipped his fingers up under Geoff's shirt and tunic to smooth over slender hips, to touch warm, bare skin, loving the way it made Geoff shiver and draw a sharp breath against his lips.

"I like this," he murmured, shifting to nuzzle Geoff's jaw, not minding the slight roughness of stubble, liking the salty sweet taste of his skin as he traced down the line of his throat with slow swipes of his tongue. Despite his slender build and the often fragile look to him, Geoff was most definitely male, his body firm and sinewy, and Wat found that he liked that very much too, and the warm, musky scent of his skin. Part of him wondered a little at this, a little voice in his head that was still trying to tell him that he shouldn't be doing it at all, let alone liking it. It should have felt strange and awkward, but his hands stroked over Geoff's body almost on their own as he kissed and sucked at the crook of his neck, but it didn't. It was almost ridiculously easy to just let go and let himself enjoy the intimate contact, to relax into each kiss and let desire shut up that annoying little voice. It was certainly a hell of a lot easier than turning Will into a knight, and that had turned out all right in the end, hadn't it?

Geoff didn't resist when he tugged his shirt and tunic up over his head, but still had a rather hesitant, disbelieving look in his eyes, as if he fully expected Wat to pull back and turn on him at any moment.

"Come here," Wat murmured, cupping the back of his head and drawing his face down to kiss him again, trying to be reassuring. He could feel the man relax against him more and more as he continued to claim and explore his mouth, hands stroking hungrily over his sides and chest. When Wat's fingers paused to tease one of his peaked nipples, Geoff drew a sharp hiss against his mouth, hips bucking against Wat's thigh almost before he could stop himself, and Wat could feel how aroused he was, warm and hard through his trews.

"Sorry - " Geoff murmured, immediately trying to pull away, but Wat caught his hips and yanked him back to him, shifting to rock his own hips against him, letting Geoff feel that the arousal was definitely not one sided. The pressure and friction against his constrained erection sent a rush of pleasure through him, a groan escaping his lips, and it seemed to be the last straw for Geoff. He surged forward with unexpected passion that made Wat gasp and grind up against him, yielding under the onslaught of his lips and teeth and tongue, the slender fingers that caught the bottom of his shirt and yanked it up and over his head a little impatiently. The feel of Geoff's bare skin against his own was maddening, and Wat rocked up against him a little harder, fingers catching and clenching at his ass, encouraging him closer.

He pulled back suddenly staring at Geoff. "Can you cook?"

"What?" Geoff stared at him a little dazedly, as if not quite sure what to make of the sudden halt in their activities. "You can't seriously be thinking about your stomach."

"It's important."

Geoff snorted, and stroked a hand slowly and very deliberately down the mid line of his chest and stomach. "Wat, don't be daft. Why the hell would I need to cook when we have a full time cook all ready?"

It took him a moment to hear and process Geoff's answer, mind more focused on the nimble fingers that had slipped between their bodies and were unlacing his breeches. "... guess I never thought of it that way."

Geoff chuckled again, sounding almost devious. "Besides," he said, voice a low purr, "I can do a lot of things that you might find better than cooking."

"Oh," Wat managed to breathe in reply, arching up against the hand that cupped and stroked him through his now too tight pants. When Geoff carefully worked his breeches down his hips to free his aching erection from the confines he couldn't help but groan from the shuddering tease of fabric dragging against his aching erection, and the relief of finally being free from it. Wat kicked off his breaches, hips arching a little as Geoff's slender fingers curled around his cock, stroking him slowly, his lover's lips hot on his throat, licking and nipping at his collarbone. Geoff sucked wetly at one nipple before biting playfully at the erect flesh, a lick of pain that sent an unexpected shock of sensation down his spine. It made his heart race, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, completely intoxicated by the tease of Geoff's mouth, the whisper of his fingers on his cock.

He couldn't focus on anything but Geoff's kisses, slowly travelling down his chest, saliva cooling after the hot tease of his mouth. Wat smoothed his fingers through fine blonde hair and drew a sharp gasp as Geof's tongue flicked teasingly at the soft skin of his stomach. Then Geoff was nuzzling the base of his erection, his soft moan a hot whisper against his skin. He trailed slow, wet kisses and laps of his tongue up the underside of his cock, his lips a warm caress as he took his head into his mouth, eyes falling closed with a low groan. Wat's hips bucked up before he could stop himself, a gasping cry escaping his lips at the rush of sensation. It was almost overwhelming, watching Geoff kneeling between his thighs, one hand stroking the base of his erection and the other splayed on his stomach to keep him in place as he slowly moved his mouth on him. Fair eyelashes fluttered on his cheeks as he pulled back, a soft pop as his cock came free from his mouth, then took him again, moaning around him as he sucked at him almost hungrily, his tongue working against him, teasing the sensitive spot just under his head.

Wat's little helpless groans and his fingers tangling in Geoff's hair only seemed to encourage Geoff, make him move a little faster on him, take more of him in his mouth until Wat could feel the head of his cock nudge the back of his mouth. Geoff's fingers slipped from the base of his cock to stroke between his thighs, to cup and gently massage his sack, his groans sending maddening shivers through him as he pressed closer and swallowed him to the hilt. It was almost intoxicating good how hot and slick and talented his mouth was, how Geoff seemed to know just how to tease and pleasure him, and before Wat knew it he was crying out, gasping his name, promising him anything as long as he didn't stop.

Geoff's low moans sent shivers through him, his mouth pulling at him more enthusiastically, swallowing him again and again until Wat was shuddering with the need for release, the pleasure building hot and hard and fast in his core. Wat couldn't remember ever needing to get off so badly. He gasped Geoff's name again, hands clenching at his shoulders and trying to pull back, but Geoff's free hand merely clenched hard at his hip, keeping him in place as he swallowed him again, the tight heat of his mouth pulling him to a helpless, shuddering climax. It ripped a throaty shout from Wat's lips, body arching despite himself as the flood of sensation rushed through him, hot and bright and eclipsing everything around him but Geoff's low, appreciative moan, swallowing his seed and pulling back slowly to lick him clean breathlessly, fingers stroking gentle circles on Wat's hips.

"Here," Wat managed to gasp, tugging him insistently back into his arms as he struggled to catch his breath, pressing his mouth demandingly to Geoff's. He flicked his tongue against Geoff's lips to taste himself almost curiously, finding it strange and bitter and suddenly having a lot more respect for the man.

"Better than food?" Geoff asked softly, and Wat chuckled, warm and low and more than a little appreciative.

"Even better than treacle tart," he replied, fingers slipping down to cup Geoff's erection through his trews, very much liking the little helpless whimper it drew from his throat and the way his hips arched into his touch. "Never had a girl do that to me."

"They don't know what they're missing," Geoff managed to reply, a little breathless as Wat tugged the laces of his trews undone. He chuckled softly against Wat's mouth, words teasingly flowery. "Better than the most succulent sun ripened strawberry."

"Damn poet. You sure as hell can't put this in your books," Wat returned, finding himself amused and somehow put at ease by the words from his lover's silver tongue, but wanting the taste of it even more. He caught Geoff's mouth with his as his fingers curled around the other man's cock, finding him warm and hard against his palm. Geoff's eagerness sent a soft wave of satisfaction through him, loving the way the other man rocked up into his touch with a little helpless groan. It was a curious sensation, but not so much different than touching himself, he discovered, his thumb swiping over the bead of moisture on the tip of his head, slicking it over his skin. Even better was the way it made Geoff gasp and damn near whimper, shivering against him and panting softly against his mouth.

"Not sure I can do what you did," he admitted softly, only to have Geoff give a sharp shake of his head and press closer.

"Just touch me," he gasped almost desperately, hips rocking insistently into his touch. That Wat could do, stroking him slow and firm, seeking out the points that he knew would be the most sensitive, letting his thumb swipe against his head with every stroke. Geoff buried his face in his shoulder with a little shuddering cry, his whole body tight and tense as if mirroring the hard flesh in Wat's fingers, his breath coming in whimper gasps with each stroke. Wat let himself indulge in his skin, nuzzling and sucking at his neck, nipping lightly at the crook, then harder as Geoff cried out and thrust into his fingers. "Oh god, Wat - !"

"Come on," he whispered, tightening his fingers around him ever so slightly, stroking a little faster, and was rewarded by Geoff bucking tense against him, fingers clenching hard at his shoulders and choking back a cry, a slick flood of warmth spurting into Wat's fingers. It sent an unexpected surge of pride and satisfaction through him, and he closed his eyes for a moment, revelling in the feel of Geoff in his arms, shivering against him in the aftermath of pleasure shared. "I liked that," he declared as Geoff panted softly against his shoulder, and his lover gave a low, breathless laugh, finally pulling back to look at him, blue eyes searching his face.

"You sure?" he asked softly, a little worriedly, Wat leaned in to press his lips to his firmly.

"You don't trust me now?"

Geoff gave a little shake of his head, fingers slipping up to stroke through his hair. "It's not that. It's just not quite so simple as this."

"Why not? You have to complicate everything, don't you? Just let it be easy."

"But...." Geoff stopped, then gave a soft sigh. "Stay with me tonight," he murmured softly. "If haven't changed your mind, then I won't leave tomorrow."

"If you try to leave tomorrow, I'll tie you to the fonging bed," Wat shot back, which made Geoff laugh softly, worry softening into affection.

"Warning taken, Wat."

~~~finish~~~

Dear Reserve: Hope you enjoy the fic! This was our match. I really wanted to try and write your tiny fandom of your heart but I had trouble getting the canon up here, so I wrote a Hook treat for you as well. :D Happy Yuletide!

HUGE massive thanks to Muccamukk for Beta-ing the hell out of this, cheering me on and approving of tentacles. &lt;3 Thank you!!


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